82 MURDEROUS FISH. 



CHAP. IV. 



" I in these flowery meads would be ; 

 These crystal streams shall solace me." 



Much has been said by various humane persons about 

 the cruelty of fishing ; but setting aside that, according 

 to the authority of the eminent author of Salmonia, and 

 of Dr. Gillespie also, who, by-the-by, is professor of 

 humanity at St. Andrew's, fish seldom feel any pain from 

 the hook. Let us see how the case stands. I take a little 

 wool and feather, and, tying it in a particular manner 

 upon a hook, make an imitation of a fly; then I throw it 

 across the river, and let it sweep round the stream with 

 a lively motion. This I have an undoubted right to do, 

 for the river belongs to me or my friend ; but mark 

 what follows. Up starts a monster fish with his murder- 

 ous jaws, and makes a dash at my little Andromeda. 

 Thus he is the aggressor, not I ; his intention is evidently 

 to commit murder. He is caught in the act of putting 

 that intention into execution. Having wantonly intruded 

 himself on my hook, which I contend he had no right to 

 do, he darts about in various directions, evidently sur- 

 prised to find that the fly, which he hoped to make an 

 easy conquest of, is much stronger than himself. I 

 naturally attempt to regain this fly, unjustly withheld 

 from me. The fish gets tired and weak in his lawless 

 endeavours to deprive me of it. I take advantage of 

 his weakness, I own, and drag him, somewhat loth, to 

 the shore, where one rap at the back of the head ends 



